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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24346384">Let's Take Our Shirts Off and Kiss</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lxck/pseuds/Lxck'>Lxck</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, Drabble Collection, Ficlet, Fluff, M/M, Proof I don't only write angst, Rated Teen Primarily for Language</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:08:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,946</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24346384</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lxck/pseuds/Lxck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of all the cute things I write for Reddie.<br/>Nights Alone: Eddie misses his husband while he's touring for his comedy show.</p><p>Edward Tozier: An introspect of Eddie's surname and what matters to him.</p><p>First Kiss: Following the events of It Chapter 2, the title is self-explanatory.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Nights Alone</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Find me and all of my Reddie Nonsense on Tumblr.<br/>he-calls-me-eds.tumblr.com</p><p>This is a drabble about what Eddie does when Richie isn't home.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Richie wasn't home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which, hey, okay, it's not the end of the world. Eddie could actually do the chores in a timely manner and without constant interruptions or comments about being a sexy french maid. But once the living room was cleaned, once the sheets were laundered and the bed made, once the bathroom was bleached and shining, once meals for the week were prepped and the kitchen sparkling… that was when Eddie missed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That wasn't true; Eddie missed Richie whistling from across the room when he bent over to sweep dirt into the dustpan. Or the way Richie would hug him from behind while he labored over making vegetables tasty enough that even Trashmouth would eat them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But in the silence following a perfectly neat house, Eddie really began to miss his husband. He stood in the door of their bedroom, hands on his hips as he considered the ringing silence. A glance at the clock told him Richie as on stage now, probably, so he couldn't call for a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So Eddie resigned himself to shower and follow his hygiene routine. Even that had him missing Richie; the way he would cram in next to Eddie at the sink to look in the mirror and emphatically rub lotion into his skin while making the most inappropriate comments imaginable. At this rate, Eddie never saw himself telling Richie to shut up again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once done, Eddie had opened his dresser drawer, lips pursed in thought before he glanced to his right at Richie's drawer. Opening that instead, he grabbed a nightshirt he knew Richie put back after wearing it for only one night despite Eddie telling him he didn't mind running the wash every night if Richie needed to wear the same sleep shirt. Tonight, he didn't care so much for the necessity of cleanliness. He pulled the shirt up to his nose, breathing deeply. It smelled like Richie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sliding the massive t-shirt over his head, Eddie felt his chest lighten a bit once surrounded by his husband's scent. Probably could have sprayed his cologne on a clean shirt and had the same effect, but Eddie was nostalgic in his loneliness. Another glance at the clock and it was still too soon to call.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie sat on the edge of their bed, mumbling to himself about time slowing down just to fuck with him. Then he turned, seeing the remote on the nightstand and he scooped it up. He pressed the microphone button and waited for the prompted beep from the TV to say, "Richie Tozier."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A Netflix stand-up popped up in suggested titles, and Eddie selected that one. It felt weird as the production names flashed at the bottom of the screen. Like he was spying on Richie in a way millions of other people were spying on him. Maybe it was the fact Richie would never let Eddie live it down if he was caught listening to the stand-up routine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Any anxiety over the movie choice was immediately put to bed as soon as the man- </span>
  <em>
    <span>his man</span>
  </em>
  <span>- walked on stage and waved. "My name is Richie "Trashmouth" Tozier…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon the apartment was filled with the comedy routine and the genuine laughter of a live audience, and that was enough. He still missed Richie, dearly. But now it didn't hurt to wait for him, not as much at least. And soon Eddie's phone was buzzing, his husband's stupid grin lighting up the screen.  He answered, a smile pulling at the edge of his lips, tone soft. "Hey, babe."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Edward Tozier</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The evolution from Edward Kaspbrak to Edward Tozier.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Follow me on tumblr for more Reddie Nonsense<br/>he-calls-me-eds.tumblr.com</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Eddie had no attachments to the name Kaspbrak. It belonged to a father he never really knew and a mother he would rather forget. He had daydreamed about ditching the name since he was in fifth grade, doodling different surnames as he zoned out of a lecture once or twice. On more than one occasion he found himself scrawling Edward Tozier and would quickly scribble over it until it was unintelligible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leaving Derry had those hopes of a name change pulled unwittingly from his mind, and he lived with the birth given name until a little past forty. It wasn't until he walked into that Chinese restaurant that his mind even whispered the thought of Edward Tozier at the edge of his consciousness. Like Deja Vu, the words were there and gone in the blink of the eye, but Eddie watched Richie a little closer for the rest of the evening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next 48 hours in Derry left no time for such fantasies, and… well, Eddie didn't have another thought for nearly a year. Following his return, the circumstances surrounding his revival were shrouded at best; Mike and Richie had done something neither liked talking about. Eddie didn't press.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A more pressing matter was the way Richie cried when he was back, the way he blatantly refused to leave his side or explain why he had such protective nature about Eddie. Not that Eddie minded in the least, but he was worried it was out of guilt and pity Richie stayed around. After a few days- really, after a few hours- Eddie could feel that name buzzing in the very back of his mind, wanting so badly to be front and center.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Edward Tozier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon it overcame simple thought. Instead of thinking about how Eddie liked the way Richie played with his glasses when he was nervous, the name would pop up. And then whenever Richie brushed fingers through his own hair, and soon whenever Richie looked at him like he was the only man on earth. Eventually it was an ever-present thought, and Eddie found it near impossible to ignore anymore. It didn't help that he and Richie were apparently hopelessly in love with one another- a fact known to everyone else but them- and as their relationship flourished, so did Eddie's insatiable desire to really become Edward Tozier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Learning from past mistakes of waiting too long, Eddie planned a proposal that was befitting a relationship only they had. On the anniversary of his return from the dead, Eddie finally asked. But before he could say the name, Richie had started laughing, pulling out a ring from his jacket pocket and accusing Eddie of stealing his thunder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The engagement lasted maybe a week before the paperwork was finalized and a ceremony was thrown together. Eddie had requested his name change the moment he could, looking down at the name on a legal document. Not at the edge of Trigonometry notes, but spelled out, letter for letter. He was going to be Edward Tozier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the wedding, they were addressed as Mr. and Mr. Tozier, which still had Eddie's heart doing flips in his chest. And when Richie looked at him, that goofy smile bright enough to put the sun to shame, voice a soft rumbling tone that only they could hear as they danced cheek to cheek, 'Mr. Tozier'. The name on Richie's own lips had Eddie on cloud nine. It was real. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> Edward Tozier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it wasn't until the following week when Eddie could finally say the words out loud together. After their much-anticipated honeymoon, while Eddie was driving into the city to showcase some reports for the local insurance branch, a number popped up on the dashboard screen. He hesitated but a second like he was rehearsing the name a few times in his head before he answered the call. "Edward Tozier speaking."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> was his name. That was always meant to be his name. It fell so simply from his lips. Flowed better than Edward Kaspbrak ever had. This was exactly who he was supposed to be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Edward Toizer.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. First Kiss</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Immediately following the defeat of Pennywise, the surviving losers are sitting in the Derry Inn when Eddie limps through the door. Richie has a second chance. Of course he fucks it up, but Eddie won't let him.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Follow me on tumblr for more Reddie nonsense<br/>he-calls-me-eds.tumblr.com</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>They fought. They </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking</span>
  </em>
  <span> fought. Eddie limped his way back to the Derry Inn to find everyone sitting in the lobby drinking a bottle of whatever they could grab and instead of coming </span>
  <em>
    <span>clean</span>
  </em>
  <span> about how he felt, Richie started a fight. Well, no, he didn’t, Eddie had stared at everyone and just asked the </span>
  <em>
    <span>real</span>
  </em>
  <span> question. Why did you leave me down there? But the problem was Eddie didn’t ask everyone. He looked </span>
  <em>
    <span>straight</span>
  </em>
  <span> at Richie and asked. Everyone was still stunned and looked insanely guilty, but Richie, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking idiot</span>
  </em>
  <span> cracked a joke at the worst time. “You were dead weight, dude.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tozier? Dead weight?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> led to a whole other argument that had them both slinging insults because neither could come to terms with the fact they almost lost one another. So they pushed each other away. Now Richie was the one storming out, stalking down the road and to his car still parked outside the library. Maybe he’d leave town. Fuck them, fuck </span>
  <em>
    <span>everyone</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Fuck Eddie.</span>
</p><p><span>Richie made it as far as the kissing bridge before he eased the car to a stop, hands curling and uncurling angrily around the thin leather strap of his steering wheel. He didn't want to leave Eddie down there. He fought so fucking hard to stay, to take him, he </span><em><span>told</span></em> <span>them they couldn't leave him. Why didn't he just say any of that? Instead he says dead weight. Why was he so fucking </span><em><span>stupid</span></em><span>? With a frustrated shout that became a strangled scream, Richie pulled his hand back, balled it into a shaking fist and slammed it against the metal wheel again and again until his breath was spent. Then he leaned forward, smacking his forehead against the arch of the wheel, eyes screwed shut.</span></p><p>
  <span>Eddie was alive. Richie had a second chance walk through the fucking door- technically a third chance because the second was the Jade of the Orient- and he threw it away. Both times. He made a joke that almost guaranteed Eddie would stay as far away from him as humanly possible. A broken laugh shook Richie as he turned his head to relieve the pressure on his forehead, eyes slowly opening to stare across the road at the wooden fence. Even from this distance, his eyes immediately found his old mark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God, how many times did he make this mistake?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could decide what to do, his phone started buzzing and staved off yet another decision he'd probably drastically fuck up somehow. Richie squinted at the screen, his stomach dropping to his feet when Eddie's number popped up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>." He answered the call before he could convince himself out of it, panicking for an extra three seconds before he pulled the device to his ear. Say something, fucknuts, he told himself. Say anything. But the shock of Eddie calling him tangled his tongue and the best he could manage was a strangled, "Yeah?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Did you really cry over me?" Eddie asked, but his tone wasn't mocking or accusatory. It was kind, gentle, so fucking soft that Richie curled around the phone, feeling like he was going to cry again. The comedian was so overcome with emotion, he couldn't make a snide comeback, barely holding in tears. "Rich…?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh, that did it. Eddie saying his name like it was a pet name. Like he was talking to a lover instead of an asshole who made a joke about him dying! Richie sobbed, one hand shoving his glasses up and covering his eyes while the other gripped the phone like it was the only thing keeping his heart beating. "I didn't wanna fucking leave you, Eddie, I wanted to get you help, I wanted to save you somehow, but I watched you </span>
  <em>
    <span>die,</span>
  </em>
  <span> man! You were gone, Eds, you were fucking gone, and I didn't know how to even breathe anymore, it felt </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong</span>
  </em>
  <span> to breathe without you, I-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Richie! Richie, stop! Where are you? Are you driving? You're going to crash."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not fucking driving, I'm sitting in the middle of the fucking road. At the kissing bridge, like no one drives this fucking road." Richie drew in a shaking breath, trying to regain even a fraction of composure. But, God, Eddie still spoke with that tone and Richie forgot how to be an ass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just. Don't move, okay? I'm on my way. Stay there." Eddie told him, and the line clicked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The aftershock of crying continued to shake Richie's every breath in and out, but he obeyed Eddie's command. Staying in the driver's seat, letting himself cry without prying eyes or anyone telling him to stop. There was a lot to cry about over the last 48 hours, he was fucking entitled to this sob fest. He knew watching Eddie die was going to be in his nightmares for years to come, even if Eddie did come back. He knew what it felt like now to be without Eddie, and he was terrified of feeling that pain again. Richie wasn't going to survive that sort of heartbreak again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, his sobs ceased, and he rubbed his wrist against wet eyes as he shuddered in a deep, steadying breath. Before he could get them completely under control, though, there was a gentle knock on his driver's window. Richie hollered, jerking away from the window and turning wide eyes to see Eddie on the other side, brow creased in great concern. Quick to unlock the door, Richie was cursing at him. "What the fuck are you trying to do, man? Scare the fucking shit out of me? You can't sneak up on a guy with PTSD, Eds! What the-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Beep, beep Richie," Eddie mumbled, ducking his head to get a look at him. Disheveled and traumatized, Richie was a sight to behold, but Eddie, God bless him, he regarded Richie with a gentleness he had never seen. Offering a hand, Eddie nodded for Richie to get out of the car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This was a dream. Richie must have drowned himself in the quarry when everyone was making out around him. He stared at Eddie's hand, then slowly reached for it like this was some grand trick. But his fingers touched warm skin, Eddie's fingers clasping the hand to help Richie out of the car and into the road. Behind them, the engine hummed as the car stayed on, but honestly Richie couldn’t hear anything but his blood pounding in his ears as he stood a breath away from Eddie. They stared at one another, one red from crying, the other red from a thought he didn’t quite know what to do with. Neither knew what to say, but Eddie drew in a breath first to try.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>While Eddie was talking, trying to make sense of things that simply didn’t, Richie’s eyes slid past Eddie to the R+E carved into the wood behind them, and he drew in a slow breath, this one without shaking. Now or never, Trashmouth. Last chance, final call, do not pass go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think… I think I’m in love with you, Richie.” Eddie murmured when his explanation came to an end, and Richie had to shake his head and refocus his eyes on Eddie. Wait, what? What had he said before that? Did Richie miss something, or did Eddie just- “Yeah,” Eddie nodded, eyes flicking back up to meet Richie’s, and thank God he didn’t see him not paying attention or Richie would probably get his face slammed against the hood of his car. “Yeah, I think I love you, Rich.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence fell like an oppressive blanket, Richie staring at Eddie with wide eyes of both parts confusion and absolute awe while Eddie looked up at him like he was waiting for him to say something. To say fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>anything</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And with each passing second, the anxiety charged between them just seemed to multiply tenfold until they were both on the edge of complete panic. C'mon, Trashmouth. It's your eightieth chance, here. Take it, you fucking shit head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eddie's expression slowly fell, and he began to pull away but Richie snapped his hand out, gripping his wrist in a vice. They stayed like that for another awkward moment, Richie looking just as surprised as Eddie by his movement. But before either could shatter the tension by opening their stupid mouth, Richie jerked Eddie against him, his free hand cupping his face and tipping his jaw up so he could kiss him in one fluid motion. Eddie fell against him, fitting so perfectly into Richie’s arms, mouths pressed together like they were only made for the other. There was only a second of stiff surprise before Eddie leaned into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut to give in completely to Richie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was like the world came to a standstill at that moment. The chaos, the horror of the last two days, the unsettled feeling sitting just below the surface for the last twenty-seven years, it all stopped the moment Eddie pressed against Richie. Nothing existed outside of the warmth of their bodies together, nothing mattered but the gentle push and pull of their lips moving together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a shining moment, it didn't dawn on him they were in the center of a prolifically homophobic town on a bridge that anyone could drive by and see them. All that mattered to Richie was holding Eddie in his arms, kissing him after thirty years of waiting. When he broke the kiss, he didn't pull away immediately, just rested his forehead against Eddie's, and focused on matching his breathing. "I love you, Eds."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I love you, too, Rich," Eddie mumbled back, the first to look around warily and pull away. But he held Richie's hand when he noticed there were no cars or ogling bystanders. "I- I think I've loved you for a really long time…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Snorting again, Richie moved to slide his other hand into his jacket pocket but found it missing. Fuck. "Aren't we a fucking pair of dumbasses."</span>
</p>
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